I am supposed to write down everything that happens to me during the day here, so I can recap on whatever good or bad day I had and read back sometime. So I guess that will be what I'm doing.
In the morning, I wake up to the sunlight. It's a Sunday, so I can sleep until whatever time I want. The clock reads 8:48am. I brush my teeth and go downstairs for breakfast. Mom's awake already as usual. She's always up really early, for some reason.
"Morning, Mom!" I say. She looks up from the couch and gives me a small smile. "Good morning, Willow."
We live in someplace called the Victor's Village in District 12. Mom and Dad's friend and my godfather Haymitch also lives there, along with a few other families. On Sunday, our family goes to the Meadow, where we have a picnic, and Rye and I play. Rye and I used to go there everyday, when we were still little, but now we have school, so we only go on Sundays. We go there every Sunday with no fail, for some reason. I asked Mom about it, and she just said that Dad and her enjoys the outdoors.
Mom makes toast and eggs for me, and after I finish, I help Mom make sandwiches for our picnic with some bread leftover from Dad's bakery. Dad comes down and gives Mom a kiss on the cheek as I take the juice out of the fridge. They share a look, like they do every morning, as if they are assuring each other that everything is fine. Mom must have had another nightmare last night. She seems to have one every night.
When Rye finally wakes and eats his breakfast, Dad grabs the basket with the food and we head over to Haymitch's house. Mom and Dad are really good friends with Haymitch, and perhaps that's why they made him Rye and my godfather. Sometimes he comes over for dinner, and sometimes he joins us on our Sunday picnics.
Mom knocks on the door, and after a while, Haymitch opens the door. He is much older than Mom and Dad, his once-blonde hair streaked with white and grey. His eyes are grey, a much brighter grey than Mom's. "Haymitch!" Rye says happily.
Haymitch chuckles and ruffles his blonde hair. "Will you come to the Meadow? We can have another picnic. And you can tell me and Willow stories! About the Hunger Games!" Rye bounces up and down. I know that there used to be this TV game called the Hunger Games, where teenagers fight to the death. Then there was a rebellion when Mom and Dad were still teenagers against the Capitol and its cruel president, Snow. The rebels won and here we are.
"Sorry, Rye. I want to be alone today." He gives Mom and Dad a nod.
"Won't you feel bored at home, doing nothing? Come with us! You won't be 'it' this time." I say. I like hanging out with Haymitch. He can be grumpy, but I like him. But Haymitch declines, so we make our way to the Meadow.
Dad sets up under the the tree we usually sit under, and Mom strokes the primroses and rue flowers growing there tenderly. She says they are fragile and sweet flowers, and they deserve to bloom much longer than they do.
Rye and I play our usual game of tag, running and rolling around on the soft grass, being careful not to crush the flowers. I did a cartwheel on the grass, and Rye attempts to do it too, but he ends up stumbling and falling onto the ground. I worry about him, but just for a second. He is giggling as he picks himself up, and he tries again, failing again.
Mom and Dad calls us to eat, and I gulp down my tuna fish sandwich hungrily, and so does Rye. Mom doesn't eat much, but I am used to that. She seems to lose her appetite at the Meadow, then regains it at dinner. We play until late afternoon, then we start walking to the town. We pass Greasy Sae's kitchen, where she smiles at us, showing her broken teeth. She's very old, but her stews are amazing.
We visit grandma, who owns the District 12 apothecary. She doesn't look like Mom at all, with her blonde hair and blue eyes. They have a short conversation, and then we go to Greasy Sae's, where we took some stew home for dinner.
"You two go wash up. Your mom and I want to go to Haymitch's and discuss something with him. We'll have dinner after, okay?" Dad squeezes my shoulder and Rye's gently and goes outside, Mom following him.
I take a shower and turn on the TV. They're playing a documentary about the Dark Days. I switch the channel when Rye pounces on me. "Rye!" I yell. He laughs, so I tickle him. Rye yelps and tries to tickle me back, but I know I'm not ticklish. We're still fighting when Mom and Dad comes back.
We break apart and I greet them. They laugh at Rye's attempt at sitting up straight and acting like nothing's happened. Dinner comes and go, and soon it is time for bed. There is school tomorrow, and I am actually excited, because we will learn more about the Hunger Games. I have begged Mom and Dad to tell us more, but they had shied away from the topic every time.
I think this isn't that bad, writing about my thoughts in a book so I can relive them however many times I want.
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